Epilogue
Archie
Three Months Later
TRIGGER WARNING: PREGNANCY
“We should’ve taken off from a private hangar,” Stryker grumbles, glaring at all of the Regular People as we pass them. “This is not secure at all.”
Millie rolls her eyes. “It’s an airport, Stryker, and we’ve already bypassed security, which means we’re in one of the most secure places we could possibly be.”
He scowls at her. “I don’t like it.”
“This is where the plane is,” Heidi says. “You gave me private plane budget. You did not give me private plane in a private hangar budget. So stop complaining.”
Stryker grunts. “Next time, we do a private hangar. I don’t care how much it costs.”
“What ‘next time?’” Millie asks. “It’s not like Archie’s going to have an excess of wedding receptions overseas. Sarelia’s a nervous flyer.”
Sarelia’s hand convulses in mine.
“She’d be a lot less nervous if everyone stopped reminding her that she’s nervous,” I point out. “And if everyone would stop jabbering and get to the plane so we can get take off—the only part she’s actually nervous about—over with.”
“I’m okay,” Sarelia lies. “Don’t rush on my account.”
My nose wrinkles. “Ignore her,” I order. “Rush.”
Stryker glares at me. “We will get there in whatever manner I deem safest.”
Goodness gracious. “Millie’s pregnant, Stryker, not invalid. She can walk a little faster. Not to mention, the faster we move, the faster she’s out of all this danger you think she’s in.”
“You can have an opinion on this when your wife is pregnant,” he declares. “And not a second sooner.”
“My wife is pregnant,” Basil rumbles. “And I’d like us all to stop wasting time arguing about stupid stuff when we could be on the plane taking naps.”
“Hear, hear!” Heidi agrees, picking up her pace. She glances over her shoulder at Basil, eyes sparkling. “Why didn’t you mention the naps earlier?”
Millie matches stride with Heidi. “They never tell us anything that matters,” she complains. “It’s always murder this, torture that. But naps? They don’t mention them. Priorities whack.”
“So whack,” Heidi agrees.
Stryker scowls at Basil. “If anything happens to them, it’s on you.”
Basil shrugs. “Don’t let anything happen to them, then.”
Rosie and Sal pass us from behind. “A nap does sound rather nice,” Rosie mutters.
Sal hums an agreement.
Sarelia groans. “I don’t know how they could possibly nap,” she says. “We’re going to be in a flying disaster machine. For hours and hours.” She shivers, turning a little green.
“It’s going to be okay,” I promise. “I will be right there with you.”
“That’s great, Archie, but you can’t protect me from turbulence. It’s literally air.”
I scowl. “You want to bet?”
She snorts, then groans. “Maybe we just get to the plane and give me some drugs,” she suggests. “You have drugs, right?”
I do, of course, have drugs.
“I’ll be happy to give you whatever you need, my love,” I say. “But first, we have to get to the plane, yes?”
Her eyes wander to the backs of our family, several meters ahead of us.
“Okay,” she whispers. “To the death-mobile. Then, drugs.”
“The death-mobile,” I agree. “Then drugs.”
She nods, squares her shoulders, and marches onward.
I smile, sliding my phone out of my pocket as we rejoin the others.
I pull up Stone’s contact, and type.
Archie: It turns out, I’m rather glad you don’t have a gambling addiction.
Archie: Sarelia sends her love.
Archie: And me, as well.
He replies with a picture of the sunset above deep ocean waves.
“Cute,” Sarelia comments, peeking at the message.
“Very,” I reply, my eyes locked firmly on her face.
She blushes, and I sigh, kissing the warm skin of her cheek.
“My princess,” I whisper. “My darling. My angel. My wife.” I sigh. “So very, very cute.”